


I Like That You're Broken, Broken Like Me

by Ferus37



Series: I Like That You're Broken [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Party, M/M, Smoking, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferus37/pseuds/Ferus37
Summary: Steve is trying hard to not be bored at a party, and to not think about how much of a dick Billy Hargrove is. To not think about him at all, really. Billy has other plans.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: I Like That You're Broken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587457
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	I Like That You're Broken, Broken Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about after I listened to Broken by Lovelytheband. To say I was inspired is an understatement.  
> You should go listen to the song. It's awesome! 
> 
> This story is set somewhere between season 2 and my complete willingness to ignore season 3.

Teenage parties were something Steve used to think were awesome, but that he now was starting to find kind of boring. He still went when one popped up, but the shine was starting to go out of the experience. After everything that had happened, with monsters and everything, he halfway didn't even feel like a teenager anymore. This one was sort of important, though, so not going was not an option. It was a Christmas party, hosted by Greg Sandy, whose parents had gone to Bahamas for the holiday, and left him home on his own. A bevy of girls had descended on the house during the day, to decorate everything, and get snacks ready, and hide valuables from thieves and rowdy idiots. This was the event of the decade, because no teenagers had fucking parties at Christmas. Then you added that Greg's parents were more than well off, so the house was huge. They could fit a shitload of people in it, and by the looks of it, everyone above the age of sixteen would come over. If they were lucky, the cops wouldn't be called, since the house had large fancy “grounds” that kept it mostly hidden from the prying eyes of neighbors. All in all, it had all the makings of the perfect party. Steve sort of wished he had a date for it, but there wasn't a single person he felt like going with. It was better to just go alone, and hook up with whoever seemed the most interesting when he was drunk. Not getting drunk was also not an option. What was the point of going if he wasn't planning on getting hammered by the end of it? He had it covered when it came to booze. A bunch of them had pooled their resources, and someone's older cousin had bought a boatload of liquor for them, and then they'd brought it to the house earlier in the day. If ever any party would be fun, it would be this one. As long as Billy Hargrove didn't ruin it all. 

Steve knew Billy would show up. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he'd miss this party. He'd show up, and all the girls would swoon, and he'd beat everyone in his ability to down alcohol without passing out, and he'd beat some other asshole up, and he'd get in Steve's face every chance he got. Billy had a hate boner for Steve. Everyone knew it. He'd apparently taken the nickname King Steve as a personal insult, and was working hard to make everyone forget Steve had ever been called king. Steve didn't give a shit about the whole king thing. He used to, but not anymore. If Billy wanted the title, he was welcome to it. Knowing Billy, he'd probably want to be called Emperor Billy or some shit. Caesar Hargrove. Fucking idiot. But, as much as Steve was okay with Billy taking the title of king, he would not in any way back down when the prick got in his face. He would never bend to the will of Mr. Asshole Extraordinaire. His pride wouldn't allow Billy the pleasure, even if it meant having the shit kicked out of him. Billy hadn't tried to attack Steve after the massive fist fight, that Steve had lost spectacularly. He'd also never brought it up, even though it was the perfect thing to lord over him. Maybe because he didn't want to risk Steve bringing up that he'd almost lost his balls to a spiked baseball bat, wielded by his little sister. Steve would definitely bring it up. 

When Steve arrived at the house, the party was already well underway. He'd dressed as King Steve, instead of the dork he'd turned into over the last couple of years. If Billy started some shit, Steve was going to be fucking ready to take him on. The thing no one knew was that Steve had a boner for Billy in return, only it wasn't a hate boner. He didn't like the guy, far from it, because he was a piece of shit, but he was a fucking hot piece of shit, and Steve was secretly not straight at all. He also secretly enjoyed when Billy tried to start shit with him. He enjoying facing him down, and butting heads, and being fucking rivals in everything they did. Tonight he might not even mind if they got in an actual fist fight, because it wouldn't be boring, and maybe he could redeem himself by beating the crap out of the bastard. He went to the kitchen. There he found vodka, and made himself a screwdriver that was entirely too strong. Perfect. He mingled, and shouted pointless stuff at pointless people over the sounds of the Christmas music blaring out from speakers that seemed to be placed in the entire building. By the time he'd finished his second too-strong screwdriver, he had two girls clinging to him, and he couldn't remember the name of either of them. He hadn't seen Billy yet. The prick was probably waiting, to make an entrance. 

Someone opened the door to the back garden, where there was a massive swimming pool that put the one at Steve's house to shame. Cold air and some snow flurries came rushing in. People shouted to close it, but not before Steve heard a familiar laugh from outside. He made his way over, without dislodging the girls, and looked out the patio doors. Billy was standing outside with a group of people, and with two girls in physical contact with him. They were smoking something Steve was relatively sure was not regular cigarettes. He was surprised to find people in the pool. The pool at his own house was covered over for the winter. It was pricey to run a clean pool all winter, and his dad considered it wasted money. Greg's parents apparently didn't, even when they were away for two weeks on vacation. The people in the pool had had the sense to not jump in with clothes on, except for one idiot, but had not had the sense to not throw the clothes in the snow nearby. One of the girls tugged at Steve's arm, and suggested they go find a convenient bedroom. He put his arm around her waist, kissed her on the forehead, and then left her to go find more alcohol. She followed him in seconds, and complained to him about abandonment while he made another screwdriver. He was going to puke orange juice by the end of the night, if he didn't find something else to drink. Or smoke. He went to find out what they were smoking outside, because it might be something he'd want to try. He once again tried to leave the girls behind, and once again failed. When he opened the patio door people inside instantly started yelling about the cold, which made the people in and around the pool look over. Billy grinned mockingly.  
“Hey, Harrington, why don't you jump in the pool?” he shouted. “They say the water's fine.”  
“It's not the water I'm concerned about,” Steve replied calmly, while resolutely walking over to where Billy was. He nodded at what was overwhelmingly likely a joint. “Any chance someone else can get in on that?”  
“I didn't know you indulged in these things,” Billy said, now completely ignoring the presence of anyone except Steve, including the girls practically hanging off him.  
“There are a lot of things you don't know about me,” Steve said, ignoring the girls still attached to himself too. He focused on Billy's eyes, trying to return the challenge he saw in them.  
There was a moment where everyone present expected Billy to attack Steve, including Steve, be it verbally or physically, but then Billy licked his teeth, snatched the joint out of Tommy's hand, who glared viciously, and handed it to Steve.  
“Here you go, pretty boy. Enjoy.”  
Steve took a deep drag, managed to avoid coughing, barely, and then blew the smoke out in Billy's face, after holding it long enough that he was proud of the effort.  
“Thanks.”  
The tension around them told him they were again expecting Billy to lose his shit. Steve no longer expected it. He took another drag, and then held it out for Billy to take. The familiar buzz that had nothing to do with alcohol flooded his system, on top of the buzz from several glasses of what was barely not straight up vodka. Billy took a drag that finished off the joint, blew the smoke calmly in Steve's face in retaliation, and ground the remnants of the joint under his heel. His eyes were glazed, but intense as he kept staring straight at Steve, who held his gaze calmly. It was fake calm, but he was very good at faking being in control. They stood like that an unknown length of time, before Billy stepped forward, clapped Steve on the shoulder companionably, and went inside silently. His sycophants followed quickly, almost scrambling to not be left outside in the cold, both figuratively and literally. Steve was left feeling confused, and a little disappointed. He went back inside too, and only just now realized the girls were gone. Fucking Billy Hargrove. 

There was no orange juice left in the kitchen. He found cranberry juice and pineapple juice in the fridge. He couldn't decide which to use, so he had a bit of both. He was officially crossing the line between drunk and fucked up, but had no wish to stop. If he passed out drunk on some couch tonight he was okay with it. If he passed out drunk in some bedroom with someone hot, that was even better. The thought of passing out drunk in a bedroom with Billy Hargrove made Steve drink too much of his drink in one go, so he added more of everything to his glass before going in search of... something. He found that something, or _a_ something, in the form of a hot chick he didn't know shoving her tongue in his mouth. He was too drunk to not run with it, so they made out for a while up against a wall, before he got tired of it and moved on. She didn't complain. Instead she grabbed a girl and shoved her tongue in her mouth instead. Steve wondered stupidly what it would be like to have Billy's tongue down his throat instead. Fuck, this night was turning weird. He didn't usually think this much about Billy, but that moment outside had been odd. Steve went to the living room, and held up a wall that overlooked the patio doors. He wanted to be ready, in case Billy and the gang went out to smoke again. It was weird to go out, considering the house was filled with smoke already, but maybe someone was worried about the smell. Or wanted to have an opening to run if the cops showed up. So far the party was relatively quiet, surprisingly so, so the likelihood of the cops being called was slim. He was waiting for someone to start beating someone else up, which tended to happen, and wondered if that someone would be Billy. Fuck that guy, and his intruding on Steve's thoughts. Steve finished his drink, and put the empty plastic cup carefully on the floor. When he stood back up he nearly fell over. Maybe it was time to slow down. Probably, but he would probably ignore that and find more alcohol, in a moment. He looked around the room to see if he could see Billy anywhere, but he wasn't there. Maybe he'd gone home, or was smoking weed somewhere else, and Steve was standing here for no goddamn reason. 

Last Christmas came blasting through the speakers, and Steve groaned. Everyone started singing along, which made it worse. He fucking hated that song.  
“I fucking hate this song,” someone suddenly shouted in his ear, to be heard over the din.  
Steve nearly had a heart attack, and turned to see who it was. When he saw, he nearly had a heart attack again, because it was Billy fucking Hargrove. Steve just nodded dumbly. Billy leaned in to say something more. He took hold of Steve's neck with his hand, and pulled him closer.  
“Come with me. I want to show you something.”  
“What, and where?” Steve shouted back.  
“Just come.”  
Steve couldn't think of a good reason to not go with him, so he nodded and followed. A small voice in the back of his mind said it was probably a bad idea to go anywhere with Billy, due to the risk of having the shit kicked out of him, but the rest of Steve was too drunk to pay it any mind. He resisted the urge to grab Billy's ass when he followed him up the stairs, first one floor, and then another one. The music was considerably lower in volume here, but still too loud to talk over without shouting. Billy went to a door near the end of the disturbingly long hallway, and opened it to peek in. What he saw was apparently satisfactory, because he opened the door wide and waved Steve inside. Steve didn't even bother looking what was in the room before going in. 

When they were both in the room, Billy closed the door and locked it. That should probably be a warning sign, but Steve was still too drunk to care. He was just curious what it was Billy want to show him. Billy stepped up close to him. It was quiet enough in here that they didn't need to shout.  
“I am so fucking drunk and stoned,” Billy said.  
“I am too,” Steve said, even though the stoned part had mostly worn off.  
“I want you to know I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't.”  
“Okay, sure. Doing what?”  
Billy kissed him. Holy shit. Steve's mind short circuited, and before he knew it, he had Billy pushed up against the wall, and was kissing back as good as he got. Holy shit. Billy tasted like beer and cigarettes. Steve was sure he himself tasted like cranberries and pineapple, and also cigarettes. Steve took hold of Billy's hair and tugged at it, feeling like they weren't close enough. Billy grabbed Steve's ass, and flipped them around so Steve was against the wall. Steve, in turn, aimed for the bed, and pushed Billy back until his knees hit it and they fell onto it. They both scooted up onto it, until Steve was straddling Billy in the middle of it. They had yet to break the kiss. Kissing Billy was everything Steve had imagined, and even more physical. Billy's hands were not idle. He pulled Steve's shirt up until he could slide his hands under it. He ran his nails over Steve's now overheated skin. Steve decided to throw caution to the wind, and simply pulled it off. Billy moaned into his mouth as soon as they reconnected. He again turned the tables, and quickly flipped Steve over until Billy was on top, between Steve's legs. He pushed their cocks together and started grinding. Now it was Steve's turn to moan. It felt so fucking good, he was going to come. He pulled at Billy's shirt until the guy took the hint and pulled it off. Now their chests were bare, and Steve pulled Billy down until they were touching. Then he slid his hands down Billy's body, until he reached the button on his jeans. Billy supported his weight on one arm, and moved the other down to help. Soon their cocks were out, and they both took hold of the other's. They were both panting, and frantic to come. Steve wasn't going to last long, but he wanted Billy to come first. It was a pride thing. Billy apparently felt the same, because when Steve increased the pace, he did too. They jerked each other off fast and rough, almost to the point of pain. Steve had one more hand free, and brought it up to Billy's nipple, to pinch it and pull on it. When he did, Billy lost and came all over Steve's hand and chest. Steve immediately let himself come too. He moaned louder than was reasonable, and felt his own come mix with Billy's on his chest. Billy collapsed onto him, and they lay there an unknown amount of time, coming down from their orgasms together, just like they had come together. Steve's ability to think was completely obliterated. All he did was feel; Billy's hot skin, and sweat, the semen smearing between them, and their cocks slowly going soft again. When he could think again, his first thought was “holy shit, I just jerked off Billy fucking Hargrove”. His second thought was “holy shit, Billy fucking Hargrove just jerked me off”. 

Eventually Billy got off him. Steve missed the heat and weight right away. Billy stopped to look down at him when he was on his feet again.  
“You're pretty fucking hot like this, Harrington.”  
“My mind is too fucking blown to make a judgment on your looks right now,” Steve lied. Billy was walking sex right now. “Holy shit.”  
“No kidding,” Billy grinned. He still looked a little dazed.  
“But why, though?” Steve asked, before even considering if it was a good question.  
“Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.” Billy replied, and held out a hand for Steve, to help him up.  
“What, this was a gift?” Steve asked, as he let Billy pull him to his feet.  
“Well, it _is_ Christmas,,” Billy said with a crooked grin. “I don't know what the fuck it was.” He shook his head slowly. “I just got so pissed off when I saw that girl kissing you.”  
“It was fucking amazing, is what it was,” Steve said intelligently.  
Billy smiled, and kissed him again. Okay, it was good to know Billy didn't just turn off when he'd come. They wiped themselves off with a corner of the sheets, and got their clothes back in order. They didn't leave the room right away. Instead they made out for a while. Billy was a fucking amazing kisser. Steve had no idea how long they stood like that, but when Billy pulled back it felt like not long enough. He tried to pull him back in, but Billy grinned and stepped away.  
“Gotta go rejoin the party, or people will start wondering.” He winked and bit his lip in a way Steve found incredibly sexy.  
“Fuck the party,” Steve sighed.  
“You know, Harrington, you're kind of fucked up, and I don't mean the booze and weed.”  
“Gee, thanks,” Steve said, and flipped him off amicably. “Like you're any better.”  
“I'm definitely not, but that's sort of the point. I like how we're fucked up together.” He put his hand gently against Steve's face.  
“Are we going to be fucked up together again?” He let himself lean into Billy's touch, just a little, then he added, “maybe when we're less additionally fucked up by booze and weed?”  
“Maybe.” He looked into Steve's eyes in question. “Do you want to?”  
“Yeah, you know, I kinda do,” Steve admitted, “but it remains to be seen if either of us will admit that when we're sober.”  
“Yeah. We'll see.”  
Billy kissed him again, slowly and gently. Steve was only just getting into it when Billy pulled back again.  
“See you around, Harrington. Merry fucking Christmas.”  
“Screw you, Hargrove, but sure, merry fucking Christmas.”  
Billy grinned and left the room without checking if anyone was watching first. Steve wasn't as reckless. He waited a while, then checked, and sneaked out of the room quietly when he sure he was alone up there. Then he went back to the party, that had suddenly become really fucking interesting. Maybe someone would have a New Years party, and maybe Billy would be there, and maybe merry fucking Christmas could become happy fucking New Year.


End file.
